Remembering
by MoonstoneAndStarDust
Summary: A conversation with his son causes Ron to get stuck in painful memories of the past. Thankfully, Hermione knows him well enough to realize exactly what he needs to get through it.


**A/N: While this is connected to my Show a Little Faith world, I don't think you need to have read that story to read this. The only really important background is that Rose found out about Malfoy Manor, and so Ron then filled in Hugo. This is the aftermath of that. It's a bit more complex than that on Rose's end, and there are other references made to that story as well as my other Ron and Hermione one shot, so if you are interested after reading those, go check them out!**

**Also, I realized that we're just around the anniversary of when the trio ended up at Malfoy Manor, seeing as Easter in 1998 was April 12th and Draco was home for the Easter Holiday. So this is getting posted now in honor of that.**

* * *

The sound of running water only barely registered in Ron's mind as he sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands as memories he'd grown so good at repressing remained determined to be remembered today. They weren't unprovoked by any means, but it was still frustrating that he couldn't just shut it all off and shove it safely to the very back of his mind. He'd hoped he'd be able to do that by now. It had been, what, twenty-five years? Twenty-six? Yet it still haunted him.

It really had gotten easier to deal with the memories over the years, but having to explain it all to his son had brought everything back in vivid detail. Surprisingly, the most prevalent memory at the moment was the sight of her body crumpling to the floor as the chandelier fell. Yes, the screams were there too. They were always there whenever he was forced to remember, but for some reason, the image of Hermione weak and helpless while he had no clue if he'd ever hear her voice, look in her eyes, or hold her in his arms again would not go away.

He barely remembered the moments that had followed, dragging Hermione out from under the chandelier and Harry tossing him a wand before he Apparated with her to Bill and Fleur's. He only really knew all that had happened because he'd heard Harry say it had. His next vivid memory after watching the chandelier fall was of Hermione opening her eyes on Bill and Fleur's sofa. That was the memory that grounded him whenever he felt himself beginning to spiral, that reassurance that she was okay. That she was still Hermione. That she knew who he was and was relieved and comforted by his presence.

But sometimes it wasn't enough to pull him out of his memories.

"Ron?"

He stiffened, realizing he'd been breathing heavily and trying not to panic and had missed the sound of the water shutting off in the bathroom, signaling Hermione was done getting ready for bed. He hadn't wanted her to find him in a vulnerable state. What she'd been through was much worse for her than it had been for him. It wasn't fair for him to fall apart. For him to rely on her to comfort him for the pain she'd been through.

Slowly, Ron sat up and rested his hands on his knees, his eyes hesitantly going to hers. She'd done her hair back in the usual plait she wore it in to sleep, keeping it from getting too tangled. Her fluffy purple dressing gown was tied around her waist and covering flannel sleep pants and one of his old maroon jumpers. It always got frightfully cold at night in their house in the winter, no matter how much they tried to fix it with warming charms. Ron tried to play it off like he was fine and attempted to give Hermione a small smile, but her brow remained furrowed in concern as she took in his exhausted and tense state.

Ron was reminded once again of not only how much he loved his wife, but of how much she loved him when her features softened a moment later and she looked at him with compassionate understanding. Of course she knew what was bothering him without even having to ask. She was brilliant, after all.

With a soft sigh, Hermione turned off the light in the bathroom and walked over to him. Ron sat up a little straighter as she reached him and nudged his legs apart so she could stand between them, her hands going to his cheeks as she dropped a kiss to the top of his head. His arms wrapped instinctively around her waist, and then she was running her hands back into his hair, pulling him closer until his forehead was resting against her chest.

Hermione ran the delicate fingers of one hand through his hair as the other moved down his neck and shoulders and back, stroking up and down in the most soothing manner, all the while continuing to drop kisses to the top of his head. And Ron found himself finally relaxing for the first time since that morning, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths that were filled with her familiar and comforting scent.

"Was it hard?" she asked in a soft voice. "Talking to Hugo today?"

Ron let out a deep sigh, his hands gripping the plush fabric across her back as he let himself remember the conversation he'd had with his son. "I'm not sure if it was worse for him or me, to be honest."

Hermione let out a comforting and sympathetic hum, her hand going down underneath his collar towards his bare back and her fingers scratching lightly against his skin. "Do you want to talk about it?"

And just like that, it was all too real once again, and he didn't want to talk about it because he didn't want to completely fall apart because he didn't want her to have to comfort him. He knew she would, without question, but that didn't mean she should have to.

"I'll be fine," said Ron, pulling back to look up at her with what he hoped was a convincing smile, reaching up to drop a soft kiss on her uncertain frown. It didn't make it go away.

"No, you won't," she said definitively, causing Ron to roll his eyes. "I haven't seen you this affected by something since you quit being an Auror."

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, the words coming out slightly exasperated as she started unbuttoning the collared shirt he'd worn that day and hadn't bothered to take off yet. Another sign he wasn't okay. He was usually quick to get into more comfortable clothes as soon as he was able, but he'd been too distracted and distressed to think much about it.

"Well, maybe you should," Hermione reasoned.

"Well, maybe I've talked about all of this enough today," he said impatiently, grabbing her wrists to stop her as she made to push his shirt off his shoulders. She met his eyes with a harsh look of her own before pulling her hands away to plant them on her hips.

"Why do you always do this?" she asked. "Every time this comes up and I try to get you to do the talking, you shut down. Why?"

"Believe it or not, it's not really that fun to talk about," Ron said a bit gruffly. He stood, forcing her to take a step back as he took off his shirt and walked past her. Ron heard Hermione give a huff as he tossed his shirt onto the floor by the dresser and opened a drawer to begin pulling out sleepwear.

"And you think it's fun for me to talk about this?"

Ron turned to look at her, feeling a bit guilty. "Of course I don't-"

"Because it's not!" she said before he could finish, her eyes shining with frustration. "But, I _need _you to talk to me about this, Ron. Because I'm not sure you ever really have."

Ron gaped at her for a few moments. "That's mental!" he finally said. "We've talked about it plenty."

"Yes, as far as how I'm doing goes or what nightmares I'm having," Hermione conceded, "but we don't ever talk about you."

"Why would we?" he deflected as he tossed his clothes onto the bed. "I wasn't the one who was…"

He couldn't say it. All these years later and he still had trouble saying it.

"But you _were_," Hermione said almost pleadingly as she crawled onto the bed, coming to kneel in front of him where he stood at the foot. "Ron, it was almost worse for you than it was for me."

Ron looked at her like she was crazy. "I was locked in a cellar while you had the fucking Cruciatus curse used on you!" he nearly shouted. "How the hell could you possibly think it was worse for me?"

"Because I know what it feels like to be terrified to lose someone you love!" she said in a harsh whisper, signalling for him to keep his voice down. He'd almost forgotten the kids were home for the Christmas Holiday.

"So?" Ron asked in a softer tone. "We've all felt that way. We all lost people we loved because of that bloody war, Hermione. It's still not the same as...as being nearly tortured to death."

His voice had choked on the word, her screams echoing in his mind as he breathed heavily. Hermione gave a patient sigh, reaching out to grab his arms and pull him closer to her, her fingers tracing over the scars on his forearms that had been there since the end of their fifth year. She looked up at him with a pained expression. "Look, think about it this way. Do you remember when you were in the hospital?" she said in a slightly shaky voice. "After that building collapse?"

Ron nodded, unsure of what she was getting at. "Yeah, of course."

"No," Hermione said with a shake of her head and watery eyes. "Do you remember actually _being_ in the hospital?"

"Oh," he said a bit uncertainly as she ran her hands down his arms to grip his hands. "I remember waking up and everything, but it's still a little hazy. I remember you and the kids being there, but that's about it."

Hermione nodded, her expression conveying that she'd assumed this would be his answer. "Well, you might not remember it, but I do. Vividly."

Her gaze met his, her brown eyes penetrating and sincere. And Ron realized what she was getting at.

"Hermione," he said with a sigh. "That's not-"

"I had to sit out in the hallway and listen to you almost die over and over again," she continued, her grip on his hands tightening. "I had to be told your heart had stopped and that they weren't sure if you'd remain stable. I can see the bruises covering your face and arms and torso. I'll never forget having to sit beside you and wait, feeling helpless and not knowing if you were actually going to wake up, and whether or not you'd even be all right once you did. I almost _lost _you, Ron," she said with a barely repressed sob, a single tear escaping her eye. "And it was horrible. It was torture."

Ron's eyes closed at the word, his breathing coming quicker as the memory of Hermione's screams and the sight of Bellatrix with a knife against her throat flashed into his mind. "I remember that night at Malfoy Manor," he heard her say softly, "but not clearly. It's more flashes and impressions of pain and the sound of you screaming my name. But you had to listen. You had to watch. And fearing you would die in a hospital probably doesn't quite measure up to what you had to endure. I can't even imagine what that was like."

A moment later, Ron felt the comforting and familiar weight of her head resting against his chest, and as he wound his arms around her shoulders and she wrapped hers around his waist, he realized he was shaking. He rested his face against the top of her head and attempted to steady his breathing.

"Don't ever think that what you went through doesn't matter as much as what I went through," she mumbled into his chest, her tone incredibly sincere. "Because I know what it feels like to be terrified you're going to lose the person you love."

With a shaky sigh, Ron finally let himself feel. Feel what it was like to almost lose her. What it was like to hear her screaming and to see her in pain and to be unable to do anything to help her. To make it stop. And then a sob escaped him, and Hermione gripped him tightly as he began to shake. He heard her whispering soothing words as she stroked his back, occasionally dropping kisses on his bare chest as his tears fell into her hair.

His sobs shook both of them and he was probably holding her too tight, but he was overwhelmed and overflowing and he couldn't stop it. He hadn't fallen apart like this in years. Not since the morning of Fred's funeral, when Hermione had held him just like she was now, their relationship not even fully formed yet but her love and care for him still obvious in the way she comforted him. There weren't many good memories from those first few weeks after the war, but the thought of her being there for him even then - when her parents were still gone and she was grieving all the loss too - brought a warmth to his chest.

Eventually, his breathing calmed and his tears slowed down. Hermione pulled slightly away from him, reaching up to wipe his tears from his cheeks. She pulled his head down so she could kiss him softly. "Let's get you to bed," she said against his lips, and Ron found himself nodding without being entirely sure what he was agreeing to.

He went through the motions of taking off his jeans and his boxers before tugging up his pajama pants and pulling a T-shirt over his head, all with Hermione's help. She grabbed his hand and led him over to his side of the bed, pulling back the covers before he crawled in. After turning off all the lights except the one on her nightstand, Hermione hung her dressing gown on the bathroom door before crawling in with him. It wasn't until she reached out and wiped at his cheek again that Ron realized he was still crying.

"Whenever you're ready to talk," she said softly, scooting closer to the center of the bed and running her hand up and down his arm and hooking her foot over his. She was close enough that he could feel her soft breathing against his face, and it helped to calm him. To get him out of his memories. She was here. She was safe. She was his. Had been for years. And she was caring and wonderful and she understood. More than he'd expected her to.

"It was horrible," he eventually said, his voice coming out strained as he slipped his hand into her free one that was lying on the mattress between them. "Every time I think about it or have to talk about it, it's horrible all over again."

Hermione gave his hand a comforting squeeze, encouraging him to go on.

"I see you lifeless in her arms. I see you falling to the floor. I...I hear you scream."

She let go of his hand for a moment so she could wipe away the tears that had formed in her own eyes, but then her fingers were laced between his once again, her grip fierce.

"I hate the fact that I was so helpless," he said through gritted teeth. "I should have been able to do something. To stop her from hurting you."

"Ron, no," she said with a teary shake of her head. "You couldn't have. You even _tried._ You wanted her to take you instead."

"I know," he said. "I know. But knowing you were in pain, knowing you could die at any moment and I couldn't do anything to stop it… I don't think I'll ever not wish there was something I could have done."

Hermione gave a sniff and pulled herself closer to him, her arm going up around his shoulder so her hand could run through his hair. Ron ducked his head down so his forehead rested against hers.

"You've more than made up for it, if that helps," she said with a soft smile. "Getting me out of there and taking care of me at Shell Cottage, and then after everything was over. Even though you were grieving. You helped me so much, and all I ask is that you let me help you too."

Ron let out a shaky sigh and nodded, feeling it all continue to bubble to the surface and unable to stop it.

"Talking to Hugo…That's the first time I've actually had to tell anyone," he admitted. "And you saw how hard it was for him to hear. Seeing his pain just reminded me of what it was like all those years ago. It's not like I think about it all the time, but whenever I'm reminded of it, it's like it just happened. And having to talk through all of it in detail today...it was a lot."

"I know," she said softly, her hand stroking his hair. "Thank you for doing it, though. And so willingly."

"Course," he said. "No way in hell was I going to let you do that. Especially not after you had to write to Rose."

She gave a slight nod and they both fell silent, Ron feeling a weight being lifted after finally being honest with her about just how hard it was to relive that terrible day.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I don't think I ever would've realized how much I needed this. You're amazing, you know that?"

Hermione gave him a loving smile and a soft kiss, not needing to say anything else. They lay there, feeling peace return as they found comfort and strength by simply being in the other's presence.

It was probably only a minute later, though, that Ron noticed his wife didn't seem to be quite as at peace as he was. She wore an expression that he recognized as meaning she was deep in thought.

"What's up?" he asked, looking at her questioningly. Hermione let out a long sigh, a worried expression appearing on her face.

"I talked to Rose while you were gone," she began. "She's doing all right with everything now, I think, but…"

She trailed off and bit her lip nervously. Ron let go of her hand so he could trail his fingers up her thigh before gripping her hip, a silent reassurance that she could talk to him about whatever was on her mind.

"I'm fairly certain she has feelings for Scorpius."

Ron couldn't help it. His eyes widened and his grip on her hip tightened while she watched him uncertainty. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, vaguely hearing her say his name as he rolled onto his back and rubbed at his eyes, forcing himself to remain calm.

"Ron?" he heard Hermione repeat hesitantly. He sighed and put both of his hands on the top of his head, taking deep breaths and trying not to let all the memories flood back in again.

"Of all the bloody families…" he grumbled out, his eyes still tightly shut as he heard Hermione moving next to him. A moment later, her hand was resting on his chest, and he opened his eyes to see her sitting up and looking down at him, understanding in her eyes.

"He's a good kid," she said reassuringly.

"I know," he said with a sigh. "Times have changed and surprisingly, so did Malfoy. And I know Scorpius isn't the prat that his father was growing up. But it's just…we already had to be in that bloody house once again already, and we barely got through it. If Rose dates Scorpius, the odds of that happening again go way up."

"Believe me, I'm very aware," said Hermione with a barely repressed shiver. "But it might all come to nothing. We don't even know if Scorpius likes Rose."

Ron gave an amused snort as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Of course he does. She's brilliant and he'd be stupid not to."

Hermione gave a soft smile as she laid back down and placed her head on Ron's chest, her arm wrapping around his waist as his went around her shoulder. She snuggled closer and pressed her face against his neck. "I know it won't be easy," she mumbled against his skin, "but it's not like we didn't see this coming. And isn't something like this the whole reason we fought? So our kids wouldn't be subjected to the same prejudices that we were?"

"I suppose," he said in resignation. They lay in silence for a few moments before Ron turned so he was facing her, pulling her against him and resting his forehead against hers. He let out a shiver that made Hermione chuckle when she slipped her cold foot up the leg of his pants.

He stared into her warm brown eyes that were full of mirth as she squirmed against him, getting comfortable in his arms as he held her close. It wasn't like it was rare for him to realize just how incredibly fortunate he was that the beautiful witch in his arms chose to love him, but he tended not to let thoughts of how lucky they both were to be alive creep in. He'd almost lost her. More than once and in more ways than one. The fact that he could have had a very different reality wasn't lost on him, and as Hermione's eyes softened and she brought a hand up to caress his chest, he felt overwhelmed by gratefulness and love.

"I've got no bloody clue what I'd do without you, you know that?" he said in a whisper. "I try so hard not to think about that night because it reminds me how close I was to losing you. And I can't bear to think about that, Hermione. I've got no bloody clue who or where I'd be without you, and I don't ever want to have to find out."

Ron felt her sigh shakily against him as she closed her eyes, a tear escaping down her cheek that he was quick to wipe away. Hermione leaned into his palm, turning her head slightly so she could drop a kiss to it. "It's still a bit overwhelming sometimes," she said in a breathy whisper.

"Which part?"

She opened her eyes and looked adoringly into his. "How fiercely you love me."

He gave her his first genuine smile of the night. "I'd get used to it if I were you."

Hermione let out a light chuckle. "I'm not sure that's possible."

She closed the distance between them and kissed him softly, her lips caressing his in a familiar dance that - he had to admit - made him see Hermione's point. He wasn't sure he'd ever be used to just how much she loved him either.

"What are we going to do about Rose?" he asked a bit breathlessly as Hermione pulled away. She gave a hum as she hitched her leg over his and began kissing along his jaw and down towards his neck. "I mean, how do we handle it? When and if she dates Scorpius."

Hermione pulled back to look him in the eye, a stern expression on her face. "We'll trust her, and we'll trust him. Within reason."

Ron nodded in agreement, only somewhat begrudgingly. Then his eyes widened in fear as he realized something.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled. "They're sharing their own private common room, right? And they're the same age we were when we were out hunting Horcruxes aren't they?"

Hermione nodded, her face betraying her confusion. "And?"

"And I remember exactly what it was like to be in close quarters with the girl I fancied at that age. You wouldn't believe the amount of times I had some not so innocent thoughts about you in that tent."

"Really?" said Hermione with a suggestive quirk of her eyebrow. "How many times?"

Ron gave her a pointed look. "Let's just say that we wouldn't have gone a day without shagging if we'd acted purely on my hormonal instincts."

Hermione gave a delighted laugh before pulling herself impossibly closer to him and kissing him fiercely. He moaned against her, the feel of her body pressed up against his threatening to distract him completely from the subject at hand. But he was able to pull his mouth away from hers, breathing heavily as she trailed kisses along his jaw once again.

"You're distracting me," he said as her hands found their way under his shirt.

"I could have sworn this was what you were hinting at," she said against his jaw, her teeth lightly grazing it and threatening to pull another moan from him.

"Not that I'm complaining," he assured her, his own hands going under her jumper, "but you've sort of missed the point."

He let out a light gasp as she rolled her hips against him a second later. "I don't think I have, actually," she said teasingly. Ron groaned as she returned her mouth to his and gave him a searing kiss.

"Come on," she said a bit breathlessly after pulling away, one of her hands going to the top of his pants and sliding under them to grip his backside. "We've got about a year's worth of shagging to make up for."

Ron chuckled. "You don't think we already have after twenty-five years?"

"Better safe than sorry," she said with a smirk and a shrug. "It's either that or we continue discussing what our hormonal teenagers might be getting up to."

Ron grimaced, shaking his head to clear it of thoughts he definitely did not want to think about. "Way to ruin the bloody mood, Hermione."

She laughed before rolling onto her back, pulling him with her so he hovered over her, a knee between her legs and his head buried in her neck as she hitched her leg over his hip. "I wanted you too," she whispered in his ear, her voice so smooth and sexy that he nearly fell apart in her arms as she teased the top of his pants with her fingers, "every day in that damn tent. Even the days you were gone. Even the days I was stubbornly furious with you. Merlin, I wanted you so badly."

Ron let out a groan, pressing almost his full body weight down on top of her and loving the sound of her breathy moan as he sucked on her neck.

"Mood no longer ruined, then?" she asked a bit breathlessly, and Ron chuckled against her skin before taking advantage of the opportunity to make up for lost time, grateful that they actually could.


End file.
